


Orlais Gets It Right

by Sloth_Race



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cullenlingus, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Lingerie, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Content, Teasing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:13:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sloth_Race/pseuds/Sloth_Race
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has been trying his damnedest to maintain a professional relationship with the Inquisitor, despite his growing feelings for her. When a shipment of Orlesian lingerie mysteriously arrives at Skyhold, however, Eve seizes the opportunity to show him exactly what she thinks of his professional distance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stoke those fires, big guy.

Any time a crass prank was played in Skyhold, Cullen knew exactly who to blame. (Last week, the swords on the Inquisition banners outside the Great Hall were replaced with crudely painted cocks. Cullen didn’t even hesitate before he strode off to the tavern to find Sera.) Alternatively, if something unaccountably odd occurred within Skyhold’s walls, Cullen knew where to find Cole. (Most of the time.) But when a rough wooden crate packed full of racy Orlesian lingerie was delivered to the barracks storeroom, he wasn’t sure whom to blame.

Cullen had stumbled across the crate accidentally after he had gone the storeroom to look for a new shipment of scout uniforms. With recruits joining daily, the Inquisition’s army was quickly running low of stockpiled gear, most notably, pants. (It had occurred to Cullen that Sera might be stealing them again.) Upon receiving the message that the shipment had arrived, Cullen had gone down to the storeroom beside the main gate in order to investigate, only to pry the lid off a crate and discover it was full of dainty blue cardboard boxes of underwear. Confused, Cullen had rubbed the stubble on his cheek and stared at the crate for a full minute before he reluctantly trudged off to find the Inquisitor. Evelyn, he reasoned, might have a guess as to why a crate full of – _panties_ \- was in his army storeroom. At the very least, he thought with a wry smile, the young blonde-haired woman would probably be wickedly delighted.

Delighted, as it turned out, was an understatement. An hour later, Cullen found himself standing in the dim, cluttered storeroom, examining small, blue boxes of lingerie with a beaming Herald of Andraste. She had insisted on going through the crate’s individual boxes “for safety’s sake”, which meant that, for the first time in his life, Cullen was critiquing women’s lingerie.

“This… doesn’t look particularly comfortable.” Cullen remarked, holding up a purple lace thong between his two gloved fingers. The delicate clothing looked out of place in his large hands. Eve’s green eyes sparkled as she appraised the underwear, and then slid the lid off another box that contained a silky red corset trimmed with gold piping.

“If the Inquisition’s goal was to order uniforms that made an impression on the battlefield, this would definitely do it.” She joked.

The corner of Cullen’s mouth twitched up in a smile as he leaned over slightly to take a look at the corset. “Brings a whole new meaning to the word ‘breastplate’.” He offered.

Eve barked a laugh and placed the lid back on the box. “That line is so terrible it might even work.”

Cullen gave a shrug that said ‘eh, I tried’ (difficult to do in pauldrons, really), then carefully set the lace thong back in the box. Lingerie safely stowed away, he glanced over at Eve as she continued to paw through the boxes with barely-contained enthusiasm. Her long blond bangs kept falling into her eyes as she leaned into the crate, making Cullen wonder why she didn’t go for a more practical hairstyle like the other women in her inner circle. Inwardly, he was relieved she didn’t, though. Personally, he felt that her long, tousled blonde hair was one of her most beautiful features. It gave her a look of youthful innocence, although he knew how deceptive that thought was. In reality, Eve had a exceptionally solid knowledge of curse words and bawdy jokes, courtesy of her time in the circle. To make it worse, she was increasingly spending time with Sera and the Iron Bull, who only fed that particular fire. The only thing that stopped most Inquisition supporters from realizing that the Herald of Andraste had a gleefully crass mouth was her cheerful demeanor and bright, dimpled smile.

As if she could read his thoughts, Eve smiled impishly up at Cullen as she pulled open another lingerie box. This particular box was slightly smaller than the others and the contents made Eve’s lips settle in a thoughtful frown as she examined the faintly perfumed lingerie. Inside, Cullen saw two ornate bands of black ribbon with black lace trimming each side.

“I don’t even know what someone would do with this.” Eve commented, running her fingers over the soft ribbons. “Are these garters?”

Cullen studied them. “Perhaps? I can’t really help you there. The Templar order wasn’t known for its consumption of fine Orlesian frippery, so my experience with lingerie is… ah… thin.”

Eve grinned again and arched her eyebrow. “You don’t say.” She paused and pushed her long blond ponytail back over her shoulder. “After the Winter Palace debacle, I would have thought that Skyhold’s resident Orlesian noblewomen would be lining up to wiggle through your office in this sort of thing.”

Cullen chuckled, his voice a deep, pleasant rumble. “Ah… no. I can’t say that’s ever happened.”

Eve looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face before it softened into a smile. “So you’ve just have seen… what? Fereldan-style lingerie, right? What is that, britches made out of mabari fur?”

Cullen pretended to think on it. “I think skinning a mabari for its fur might be heresy in Ferelden. …I may have seen some racy Fereldan burlap smalls, though.”

Eve huffed a laugh and placed the lid back on the box with the garters.

“I should probably get back to work.” Cullen noted after a comfortable pause. “If you find out who ordered these, please let them know. I’m running out of space in the storeroom as it is.”

“I have some suspicions.” Eve said, tapping her lips thoughtfully. “Also…” She paused and reached into the crate, pulling out an envelope that had shifted down between the boxes on her side of the crate. “This might help.”

After ripping the paper carefully, she pulled out an elegantly illustrated catalogue that had clearly come from an upscale lingerie shop in Val Royeaux.

“Unsurprisingly, it looks like it’s addressed to Vivienne.” Eve’s eyes met his and she gave him an unimpressed grimace before blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Part of me really wants to know why she needs all these, and part of me… really doesn’t.” She bent to retrieve the wooden lid to the crate, and then carefully placed it back on top and hammered it down with her fist.

“I’ll make sure she has the crate removed. Oh, also, if you could bring me that prison reconstruction update this afternoon, I would appreciate it. You can just drop it on my desk when it’s complete.”

Cullen nodded and watched as Eve moved to exit the dim storeroom, her mind now too preoccupied with the catalogue to notice how his eyes flitted between the crate and her retreating form. Cullen rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the way his stomach clenched oddly. This ridiculous crate had just made his day so much harder.


	2. If anyone needs a hobby, Curly, it’s you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve informs Vivienne of the crate's arrival, and Cullen stews in his office.

Eve walked towards the Great Hall distractedly, her attention focused on the catalogue in her hands. Made of a thick, creamy paper, it was filled with elegant black ink drawings of women posing in ridiculously expensive Orlesian lingerie. The first page Eve flipped to depicted curvy women lounging in translucent nightgowns, the outlines of their breasts tantalizingly visible through the sheer material. On another page, willowy models smiled coquettishly, dressed in lacey smalls and little else.

Eve felt a strong pang of jealousy as she browsed the document. Her own collection of undergarments consisted of Inquisition-issued smalls and breastbands – white, cotton, serviceable … and boring. Comparing them to the lingerie in the catalogue, even the most luxurious of her simple undergarments were downright dowdy. To be fair, she thought as she climbed the steps to the Great Hall, it wasn’t like anyone was seeing her in them. The Commander, the only man she had any interest in, was downright oblivious to her flirting attempts. Even when her subtle comments and smiles had gradually become increasingly blatant, Cullen had responded with… unfailing politeness and professionalism. True, their relationship had moved from business-like conversations into a tentative friendship, complete with wry banter and gentle teasing. Romantically, however, Cullen seemed as distant as ever.

…Almost as distant as ever, she noted to herself. Two months ago, she had returned to Skyhold with the grim news of Old Crestwood’s fate. Seeing the claw marks on the stone and the skeletons huddled in the dark had deeply affected her. The memories had caused her voice to hitch slightly as she delivered her report to her advisors at the War Table. Cullen, in a surprisingly hands-on display of empathy, had moved around the table and gently pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a consoling hug. The move had simultaneously startled and pleased Eve, and left her feeling a little guilty as her mind quickly abandoned the thought of Crestwood refugees and instead focused on how damn good Cullen smelled. The solid weight of his arms and the warmth of his words near her ear had only distracted her further, making her insides squirm pleasantly. Eve might have interpreted his gesture as merely a friendly one, but the fleeting glance he gave her as he pulled back, along with the way his hand lingered on her waist for a moment too long, had hinted faintly at something deeper.

But that had been two months ago.

Eve sighed and rolled the catalogue into her fist as several Orlesian courtiers swept past her as she walked into the Great Hall. Putting thoughts of lingerie and Cullen out of her head, Eve pushed through the heavy door near the fireplace and climbed the stone steps to Vivienne’s balcony. In her experience, the intimidating woman rarely left Skyold’s main hall, preferring the relative poshness of her own balcony to rest of the fortress.

To Eve’s satisfaction, Vivienne was curled up, cat-like, in one of her high-backed chairs, a thin book in her hands.

“Good morning, Vivienne. A shipment from Val Royeaux arrived for you.” Eve stated as Vivienne looked up. “Cullen found it in the barracks storeroom.” 

The Grand Enchanter’s cool expression brightened into a satisfied smile. “Splendid. I’ve been awaiting it for several days now.”

Eve paused. “I should tell you that we did open it to see what it contained. I hope this isn’t a concern. Cullen thought the crate might have contained the new uniforms that he had ordered.” 

Vivienne gracefully stood and smoothly placed her book on her bed. “I can only imagine the Commander’s face when he discovered that the crate didn’t contain stacks of gauntlets and greaves.”

The corner of Eve’s smile twitched up in a smile. “He was a bit baffled. Apparently, he is not too familiar with … fancy ladies’ underwear.”

“I am not surprised.” Vivienne remarked, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “I will have the box moved to my quarters immediately.” She paused. “I’m sure you’re wondering why it’s there. I had arranged to procure lingerie for members of the Orlesian nobility here at Skyhold, since it is rather difficult to get goods shipped here, especially discretely. It is easier for me to arrange a large shipment than for individual ladies to order contents independently.”

Eve nodded and then shifted slightly, her soft, leather boots creaking slightly. “Before I leave… The crate contained this catalogue.” She held it up to show Vivienne. “I used it to find out who the shipment was addressed to, but… may I borrow it for a short time?” Eve kept her expression politely formal, even as she felt herself flush slightly.

Vivienne’s eyebrow arched subtly. “Please feel free to take it. I have a copy myself.” 

Eve nodded her thanks and made to move to the doorway, the catalogue once again rolled in her clenched fist. 

“Inquisitor?” Vivienne called, her voice low enough to still be discrete. “If you’d like me to order something for yourself, I’d be happy to arrange it.”

Eve paused, then ran a hand over her forehead with a sigh. “Thank you, but I… I don’t think so. I suspect it’s not acceptable for the Herald of Andraste to be ordering thongs and sheer corsets.” She gave Vivienne a genuine, dimpled smile. “It is sort of mischievously fun to browse, though.”

With a polite nod from Vivienne, Eve turned and made her way back down the stairs, leaving a very contemplative Grand Enchanter behind.

* * *

 

Cullen stretched his legs under his desk, wishing for the thousandth time that his hard wooden chair had a cushion on it. He had spent the past three hours delegating the distribution of the new uniforms and finishing off the Skyhold prison reconstruction update that the Inquisitor had requested. Normally, the work would have taken him half the time, but he was undeniably distracted this morning. A giant box of see-through underwear might have had something to do with it. It didn’t help that the lingerie undeniably fascinated Eve.

Cullen wasn’t a slow-witted man; he was keenly aware of Eve’s reciprocal feelings towards him. Truth be told, she was about as subtle as a brick through a window when it came to flirting with him. (He couldn’t count the number of playful winks she gave him across the War Table when he was trying to discuss sword training.) She touched him often too – light touches on his shoulder, or fingers tapping on his breastplate teasingly as she passed him. For all her forwardness, though, there was an innocence about her flirting attempts that the Orlesian noblewomen at the Winter Palace seemed to lack. Eve, for instance, still blushed deeply when Sera hooted crass encouragements at them as they walked anywhere together. Eve also startled like a halla if Cullen came up behind her without warning, despite the fact that no one else seemed to unnerve her in the same way.

 Cullen inwardly admitted that her teasing had been devastatingly effective on him. More often than not, he would leave the War Room gritting his teeth, feeling his body thrumming eagerly in reaction to something she had coyly muttered to him. Thankfully, Leliana and Josephine had kept their comments to themselves, but the way their lips tugged up slightly had told him they found the whole thing to be extremely entertaining.

For all his fascination with the Inquisitor, Cullen had held back. Too much was at stake. If he became distracted enough to make errors while planning a mission, his soldiers and scouts could suffer. If a petulant Bann with a chip on his shoulder decided to spin their potential romance into a scandalous rumor, the Inquisitor’s reputation could be compromised.

When Corypheus was defeated, that was when he would approach her. That was what the practical part of Cullen had decided. A deeper part of him acknowledged the truth more easily. It was, he knew, only a matter of time before he let Eve fully wear down his defenses. At the rate she kept at it, he’d simply heft the woman over his shoulder and haul her to his office the next time she mischievously leaned over the War Table and accidentally flashed him a bit of cleavage.

Void.

This line of thought was not helping.

Work completed, Cullen shuffled his papers together and stood up, causing his chair to scrape loudly on the stone floor. Eve had instructed him to drop the reconstruction report on her desk that afternoon, so he dutifully pushed the racy thoughts of the Inquisitor out of his head and began the short walk to her quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On an unrelated note, I just read what happens to Grand Duchess Florianne's remains if you choose to sentence them to community service. It's gold. Josephine and Leliana have darkly funny ideas about it all, and Cullen is just resigned. You can practically hear the man rolling his eyes.


	3. Now that's a view. Gets your blood going.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve receives a gift and Cullen has terrible (or wonderful) timing.

Eve spent the afternoon outside with Scout Harding and Sera, ostensibly sewing up damaged Inquisition tents in the field beside the stables. Normally, gear was repaired in the field, but the scouts in the Fisher’s End camp had been recalled to Skyhold in order to be redeployed in the Emerald Graves, so their gear had been hastily packed up, rips and all. Eve had sat crossed-legged in the sun-warmed grass, re-stitching a particularly rough-looking tent, which had torn badly when an undead had shambled into the camp and fell, ass-first, into the side of it. Sera had cackled delightedly upon hearing it.

By mid afternoon, with all the tents repaired, Eve retreated to her quarters to prepare a packing list for her upcoming trip to the Emerald Graves.

Upon reaching her quarters, she kicked the door closed behind her and trudged up the final flight of stairs, pulling her leather tie out of her hair to shake her ponytail loose. As Eve moved to toss her hair tie on the bed, she noticed a small, familiar box on her covers, along with a folded paper note that was carefully perched on top. Coming closer, she recognized the box as one of the blue lingerie boxes from the crate Cullen had stumbled across that morning. Unclear of what it could mean, her heart stuttered and she quickly flipped the note open to read the elegant handwriting inside.

“Every good woman should have fine clothing. Leaders of Thedas require the best. –V. ”

Eve smiled at Vivienne's ability to subtly insult and complement a person in a single sentence. 

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Eve gently pulled the lid off the heavy cardboard box to look inside. Joy bubbled in her chest as she saw that the box contained an elegant, emerald corset with a thin overlay of black lace. Sheer black ribbon ties ran up the back, ending in a smooth band of satin that ran around the top of the corset. Accompanying it was a pair of satiny black smalls made of the same fabric as the satin trim of the corset. Eve exhaled slowly in surprise. She had never owned anything as pretty or as frivolous.

Gently, she lifted the two pieces of lingerie out of the box and smoothed them out on her bed to get a better view.

“ _Thank you,_ Vivienne…” She murmured, a little breathlessly.

She stood at the side of her bed, admiring the expensive lingerie for a moment more before coming to the realization that she should be trying it on. Swiftly, she pulled off her clothes, determined to see if the gift fit. Her boots quickly joined her trousers and tunic on the carpet, followed by her bland white undergarments, which left her standing gloriously naked in the cool, high-ceilinged room. The wide balcony doors were open, letting sunlight and the faint noise of hammers and chisels filter through the doors, along with the pleasantly warm summer breeze. Undressing with the doors open always struck her as a potentially scandalous thing to do, but there was no way that anyone on the battlements could see her from this angle, so she took a quiet pleasure in the act.

Eve stepped into the satiny smalls and pulled them up over her hips before eyeing herself in the long mirror that had been left in her room after the dress fittings for the Winter Palace. With pleasure, she noted that the smalls hugged her waist perfectly. Vivienne, she thought approvingly, definitely had an eye for these things. Eve hummed happily and ran her hands over the fabric, enjoying the thought of having real, satin lingerie.

Satisfied with the fit of the smalls, she reached for the corset. Gently, she worked the ribbons loose and pulled it on, not sure whether she should step into it or pull it over her head. Tying up the laces up behind her back proved to be a bit tricky, but once she had it on, the jewel-toned corset felt like it could have been painted on.

“Maker.” She breathed, as she turned to look at her reflection in the tall mirror by her dresser, only faintly distracted by a sharp noise from a hammer in the courtyard below. The woman in the reflection was as different from the dowdy circle mage as she could imagine. The green and black corset accentuated the flare of her waist while gently pushing up her breasts in evocative yet subtle way. The cut of her smalls highlighted the roundness of her ass, drawing attention to all her softness instead of the scars on her legs that she tended to quietly fret upon.

Smiling at herself in the mirror, she pulled her long, pale hair into a rough ponytail and then arched her back slightly as she viewed herself. After living her life in circle robes for nearly fifteen years, she amused herself with a brief moment of vanity.

Eve made a noise of contentment deep in her throat and curled her toes on the expensive, Antivan carpet, but stopped short when she heard a quiet choking noise behind her. Turning her head quickly, her eyes landed on … Cullen. The commander stood wide-eyed and stock-still at the top of her stairs, looking perfectly regal, if flustered, in his usual red mantle and silverite armor. Eve’s stomach lurched with a blend of panic, surprise, and possibly excitement.

A moment of shocked silence lingered, followed by a muffled clattering noise as Cullen turned swiftly to face the wall in an attempt to preserve the Inquisitor’s modesty. Too late, Eve slowly realized that the noise she heard a moment ago was a not a hammer, but sound of Cullen rapping on her door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fill your boots, Commander.


	4. Well, shit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen nearly has a heart attack and he damn well loves it.

Cullen had meant to simply drop the report off on Eve’s desk and then head down to the Great Hall for an early dinner. She had instructed him to leave it for her, so when she hadn’t answered her door, he had simply pushed it open and entered her quarters, just as he had many times before. Only she was actually there, standing on the far side of the room in nothing but a green lace corset and pair of tiny smalls, her hair caught up in both hands. As he watched, dumbfounded, she had made a contented noise in her throat that sounded halfway between a pleased hum and a sigh, and he momentarily lost the ability to think.

Now he was standing at the top of the stairs in her quarters, his eyes guiltily averted as he avoided looking towards the nearly-naked Inquisitor. And, Maker, did she ever look good like that, an unchivalrous part of his mind crowed.

“I apologize, Inquisitor.” He felt himself saying, trying to keep deep voice steady. “I brought the reconstruction report you asked about this morning. You had asked me to drop it on your desk. I should have… ah… my apologies.” Cullen trailed off, still facing away from her.

He waited tensely for her response, fully expecting for her to hurl something at his head or stiffly tell him to shove off. Which is exactly what he should be doing … why was he not leaving? He should be leaving. As he started to move down the stairs, he heard Eve’s lightly accented voice from behind him.

“Cullen, wait. …” A pause, followed by a deep breath. “What do you think? It’s from Vivienne.”

She was asking him to look. Maker’s breath. He turned hesitantly, feeling an odd blend of guilt and compulsion. From across the room, the Inquisitor gave him a genuine dimpled smile as their eyes met again.

Cullen eyed her body uncertainly, not sure if he should try to be courteous, or if he should let his genuine appreciation show. They were well outside the realm of professionalism now, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“You’re trying to give me a heart attack, aren’t you?” He muttered warily.

Eve’s sunny smile brightened. “That is definitely not what I’m trying to give you.”

He gave an amused snort. “You’ve been hanging around Sera too much.”

“Probably.” She agreed.

“Eve…” He sighed. “I... I'm having a very hard time maintaining a professional distance with you.”

“I noticed.” She replied. “It’s infuriating. Also, you didn’t answer my question. What do you think?”

“It’s … “ Cullen swallowed, trying to determine what the right thing to say in this situation. (Who the hell gets in these situations anyway?) His mind ran through a handful of different responses as he looked at her, ranging from possibly creepy to politely complementary, all of them awkward as hell. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes and allowed himself to voice the very first thought that had come to mind. “ _Fuck._ ”

He watched as Eve’s eyebrows shot up, unaccustomed to such fierce profanity coming from her commander. She cocked her head slightly, her blonde hair falling gently to the side. From his place by the stairs, Cullen could see that his comment had triggered her own intense blush. Her stiff posture made it clear to him that she was also feeling rather self-conscious, but was simply trying to hide it with daring words. It was the same thing he noticed her doing occasionally at the War Table, just in a very different context.

Cullen exhaled and put his gloved hand on the balustrade for support. “Eve… Maker’s breath.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “You look… stunning. I like it very much.” As soon as he heard the honest words fall out of his mouth, he winced and looked away. “I suspect that was possibly the most unprofessional thing I could have said.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eve shift from one foot to the other. “No, Cullen…” The corner of her lips flicked up in a smile and disappeared just as quickly. “It's perfect." She paused shyly. "I had hoped you’d like it.” She shifted her weight again and seemed to be steeling herself to ask something. “Will you come here?”

Her words hung in the air and Cullen felt his eyes widen. "Now?"

Eve huffed with exasperation and glanced at the ceiling as if to say: “Oh, give me strength”.

“For a brilliant strategist, you are a very daft man.” She chided him, seeming more confident now. "Maybe I should make a banner that just says ‘TAKE ME, YOU ARSE'; I don’t know how much more straightforward I can be.”

The bluntness of her words caused Cullen to blink in surprise before he barked a relieved laugh. He watched as her annoyed expression quickly faded.

“Strategic warfare is one thing.” Cullen smiled ruefully. “This is entirely different.” He paused, searching for a way to express himself without saying something stupid. “It’s just… We’re in the middle of a war. Distractions could lead to… Well, our failure would be dire. That knowledge has always kept me from pursuing ...anything.”

Eve’s expression darkened. “War is exactly why I think it’s a good idea. The way I see it, we could die tomorrow. Not just me. Everyone. I’ve been living with that knowledge since Redcliffe. If I step left instead of right while fighting, we could die. If I cast the wrong spell, we could die. It could happen so easily. I don’t want to regret not approaching you.” She distractedly tugged her hair over her shoulder with both hands. “I thought I’d been reading you right. You always seem shyly pleased when I tease you. If you really feel that this is a bad idea, tell me you don’t want this and I won’t mention it again.”

The apprehensive look on her face made Cullen’s stomach clench. He damn well did want this. Whatever “this” was. And maybe she had a point about dying tomorrow, as grim as it was. Maker, he was an easy man to sway.

He took a couple steps forward, and when she didn’t protest or move from her spot, he walked around the bed towards her. The closer he came, the harder it was for him to be unaffected by the way her body looked in the lingerie. He could see her the way her breasts gently rose and fell as she breathed. He saw the way her long hair trailed over her shoulders, across the satin trim of the corset. He saw how long her legs were, and his mind leapt to the image of them wrapped around his hips. He shivered at the thought.

“Maker take me, I do want this.” He murmured lowly, looking her in the eyes. From a hand span away, he could smell her sun-warmed hair and the light scent of the faintly perfumed lingerie, tempting him to come closer.

At his tensely hopeful words, the younger woman’s expression melted into a relieved smile. Her arms smoothly encircled his neck, causing his heart to squeeze in joy. Without thinking, he pulled her against his chest tightly, reveling in the idea of her barely-clothed body tucked up against his armor. Wordlessly, he pressed his face against the curve of her neck, feeling her pulse hammering against his lips.

He nuzzled the side of her throat to breathe her scent in, swaying slightly against her, not entirely sure what to do next. A very strong part of him wanted to murmur how deeply he cared for her; how her cheerful personality and fiery determination inspired him every day. Another equally strong part of him wanted to slide his fingers down the front of her corset and yank it down, and to hell with words.

Void. She was going to be the death of him, but at least he'd die happy. 


	5. You're never more alive than when you're about to lose your pants, my friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - Tag has also been changed to Explicit.  
> Hooray!

Eve struggled to process the situation she now found herself in. One moment, she had been admiring the fantastic things that corsets could do for her breasts, and the next, her reserved and dutiful commander was all but wrapped around her, practically humming with contentment.

Eve swallowed and tried to rally her thoughts. The idea of pushing Cullen to his breaking point had always been one of her biggest fantasies while she lay awake in her quarters at night. For months now, she had seen desire silently flicker in his eyes - desire that he suppressed so damned well. It was thrilling to kindly tease him, knowing that perhaps one day he’d reciprocate. She sure as hell didn’t think today would be the day. Maker bless Orlesian tailors.

As she reflected on the power of good underwear, Eve cast a quick glance at the mirror by her dresser and nearly felt her heart stutter at what she saw. Cullen was pressed almost desperately against her nearly naked body, his gloved hands slung low around her waist and his face buried against her neck. Her own startled face peeked out from behind his shoulder, mostly obscured by the dark fur of his mantle. The scene caused a delicious feeling of warmth to pool low in her belly.

“ _Maker_ , Cullen…” She exhaled, arching herself against him in a wordless invitation. To her pleasure, he made a low noise of contentment deep in his throat, causing Eve’s eyes to slide shut as lust spiked through her. She gasped softly and his arms tightened around her waist even tighter, causing her breasts push up against the cool metal of his armor.

Slowly, teasingly, she drew one hand away from his shoulders and touched his face lightly, drawing two fingers along his jaw. At her touch, Cullen pulled back slightly so he could meet her eyes. He had an absolutely stunned expression on his face.

“Eve…” He murmured, warring with some unspoken emotion.

Eve smiled then, warm and reassuringly, and stepped back so she could gently pull his hand from her waist. Without breaking eye contact, she brought his hand up in front of her and tugged his glove off slowly. He watched in silence as she let it drop to the floor, hearing it land with a muffled thump. Eve repeated the process with his other hand until the second glove landed beside the first.

With the Cullen’s hands now bare, Eve gracefully turned and pressed her back against his chest, pulling his arms firmly around her waist. Her ass now rested snugly against his clothed erection.

Cullen swallowed thickly. “Mercy, Eve.”

Smiling, she angled her head back slightly and drew her lips against the curve of his jaw, barely touching his skin. “Not a chance.”

Oh, Maker. Eve felt him tremble then. Void, he actually _trembled_. Eve nearly panted at the thought. The idea her stoic, stubborn commander could react so strongly was absolutely intoxicating.

Encouraged by his reaction, she decided to throw caution to the wind. Her fingers found the front hem of her corset and she tugged it down, freeing her breasts in one smooth motion. Feeling exposed, she grabbed his hands and pushed them to her breasts, letting him palm them firmly. As his hands brushed over her hardened nipples, she heard him pant desperately in her ear.

“… I… It’s…”

He stuttered for a brief moment, and then, just as quickly, abandoned his attempt to talk. Instead, she felt him place warm, open-mouthed kissed along her sun-warmed shoulders. Meanwhile, his hands gripped her hips tightly and he pulled her body hard against his straining erection.

Eve bit back a breathy moan. The sensation of his strong hands on her waist and his warm lips on her shoulder had eroded her willpower completely. Wordlessly, she turned to face him again, watching with fierce happiness as his eyes darted down to her naked breasts and back up to her eyes again. 

The unspoken need in his eyes triggered something in her, and she was briefly torn between the desire to kiss the man senseless or fall on her knees before him and take him in her mouth. Her indecision was short-lived, however; she was done with being patient. She had damn well waited for months for him to get to this point, unsure if he ever would. Sheer desire was guiding her now, and kissing wasn’t going to satisfy her.

Eve’s knees hit the thin carpet with a painful jarring feeling and she knew she’d have bruises later. She ignored the mild pain and reached up to fumble with his metal belt buckle in order to pull it open. Immediately, she heard Cullen’s sharp breath above her, swiftly followed by the feeling of his hand burying itself in her hair. From her knees, she looked up at him with a quick, preoccupied glance. He was watching her with undisguised shock on his face, his eyes a little wild.

“I know - I’ve missed a step,” she acknowledged. “Kissing and all that. You can prepare a stern speech later.”

He laughed then, something between a panicked cough and a chuckle, although Eve suspected it was due more to surprise than amusement. With swift, sure movements, her fingers tugged his loosened leather belt from his pants and tossed it somewhere behind her. Eagerly, she then ran her palms down the front of his pants, skimming his clothed erection. The satisfied hiss he made caused her to close her eyes for a moment as she suddenly became lightheaded with desire.

When the rush ebbed, she opened her eyes and set to work again, looping her fingers through his laces to loosen his pants. As she tugged, she lightly drew the pads of her fingers over his erection, taunting him gently. All the while, Cullen watched from above, his lips parting slightly as he watched her work.

With his laces finally untied, Eve smoothly hooked her fingers in the top of his pants and glanced up at him, tilting her head as if to ask “Is this okay?” A very wide-eyed Cullen nodded in response, his lips still parted in astonishment. She smiled up at him and then gently tugged his pants and smalls down to his knees, grateful that he didn’t wear plate amour on his legs.

Eve sucked in a breath at the sight of him standing in front of her, his pants and smalls now resting on the tops of his boots. He was more than ready for her, and she saw with smug pride that he was turned on beyond belief - precum was already beading on the tip of his cock. Months and months of her sly teasing and light touches had done more than any foreplay ever could.

She made a joyful humming noise in the back of her throat and softly took his length in her hand, enjoying the surprising silkiness of it. At her touch, he let out a strangled groan that spurred her to lean in and run a tentative tongue across him. As she did so, she glanced up and watched as Cullen’s eyelids slid shut and his head tilted back slightly, a low breath simultaneously escaping his throat. Spurred on by the sight, Eve shuffled closer on her knees, putting one hand on his muscled thigh as she took him completely in her mouth. He let out another breathy noise, deep and obscene. Eve began to work him slowly but earnestly then, with her hand sliding slickly along his length, accompanying the gentle tempo she set with her mouth.

After a moment, she paused, regretting the fact that she had pulled out her hair tie when she got to her quarters. A loose strand of hair had fallen in front of her eyes, causing her to blow it aside. As if he knew what she was thinking, Cullen immediately reached down and pulled her loose hair into a rough ponytail, allowing her to suck him freely. With her hair now pulled out of her face, Eve gave him a thankful wink and she began working him deeper into her mouth. Cullen let out a strangled curse word as her warm, wet tongue dragged along his cock eagerly.

Judging by the needy, breathless noises that he was making, Eve knew he wouldn’t last long. She looked up just in time to see Cullen glance in her mirror, perhaps realizing it was there for the first time. The sight of the topless Inquisitor enthusiastically taking him in her mouth must have been too much for him. He exhaled another sharp “Fuck!” and she felt him stiffen and shiver as his orgasm hit hard.  He let out a wordless cry and his hands tightened in her hair as warm, slightly bitter, cum filled her mouth. He groaned lowly then, his knees buckling slightly as she drew his orgasm out with her soft, wet mouth.

A few moments later, his fingers loosened on her hair and Eve eased off, swiping her tongue across his length to remove any trace of her work. Job done, she affectionately tucked him back into his pants and rose to her feet in front of him, a little less smoothly than she would have liked. The lust that still ran through her caused her legs to wobble slightly, but she ignored it. There would be time for that later, she hoped. In the meantime, she shyly ran her thumb against her bottom lip as she observed him, trying to gauge his mood.

Cullen was bracing himself against her dresser, his expression unfocused.

Eve pushed her blonde hair behind her ear, suddenly shy. “Alright, Cullen?”

At the sound of her voice, Cullen blinked and his eyes darted up to her face. He smiled then, bright and genuine. “Maker… yes. _Yes_.” He stood up straighter and rubbed his neck, blushing deeply. “Is that… I mean… That was unexpected.”

Eve beamed. “Consider it a benefit of the job. ” She winked playfully as she tugged the corset back in place. 

His blush deepened and he huffed a self-conscious laugh. “Eve… Do you ever stop flirting?”

“With you? Never.”

His smiled broadened and he leaned forward to touch her face tenderly, letting his fingers trace lightly along her reddened lips. “I… I wasn’t sure how serious you were.” His smile faltered. “I mean… I knew, but…” He trailed off awkwardly. She knew where he was going, and why he stopped. He didn’t want to accuse her of being overly flirty, but he wasn’t sure how genuine her attentions had been. Fair enough.

Eve waved her hand, dismissing his words patiently. “No, I know what you meant. You don’t need to doubt my feelings for you. Not even a little.” She bit the corner of her lip and fiddled with the red tunic that covered his breastplate. “I want to talk to you about this, but I’m afraid I can’t do it now. I promised Leliana that I’d come to talk to her before dinner, and I think I’m already late. Apparently, she has some intel on Fairbanks she wants to share before I go to the Emerald Graves. If it was anyone else, I’d reschedule, but I don’t really want to get on her bad side.” She grinned impishly. “You just came at an inconvenient time.”

Cullen ignored her terrible pun and reached up to playfully pull one of her blonde tresses over her shoulder. “Well… I’d like to talk soon.” His expression warmed and his voice deepened as he watched her with affection. “I… have thought a great deal about you. I may have plans for you.”

Eve’s eyebrows shot up and grinned as if she had just won a prize. “Are you acknowledging that my ridiculous flirting worked?”

“I may be.” Cullen replied tenderly. “You know… You didn’t make it easy. I don’t even know what’s going to happen or if this even a good idea, but… I want it. I think I really didn’t stand much of a chance.”

“Oh, I know.” She said quickly, her eyes narrowing mischievously. “By the way…” She teasingly ran her finger under the hem of his red tunic before taking a step back. “Vivienne let me keep that lingerie catalogue I found.”

“She did, did she?” He muttered, watching her bend down with undisguised appreciation as she moved to retrieve her shirt. “I don’t often say this, but I think I owe some Orlesians a very enthusiastic thank you.”

Eve hummed in agreement as she bent to pick up her pants.

“Maybe you can use that catalogue and pick out another one of these.” He said then, stepping closer to her so he could drag his fingers appreciatively along the lace overlay of the corset as she stood up. “Like the red one I found earlier. Although this is good too.” He leaned down to kiss a ticklish spot on her neck and Eve grinned happily.

“I think I can manage that.”

Cullen made a satisfied rumbling noise and he ran the tips his fingers over the swell of one breast. “Maker. I don’t know if I can.”  

Eve ducked her head shyly at the intense look he was giving her. It was one thing to tease him – a flustered Cullen was a delightful, almost innocent, thing to behold. It was another thing entirely to see Cullen watching her with a dark, openly lustful expression. It made her keenly aware that beneath his occasional fumbling, he was a seasoned warrior with scars and muscles and power and confidence. And he had plans for her. Eve nearly shivered at the thought.

“Stay with me tonight.” He asked, interrupting her ruminating.

She blinked. “In your room? Does it still have a hole in the ceiling?”

“Yes and yes.”

Eve chewed the corner of her lip thoughtfully. The obvious answer was an emphatic “Void, yes”, but she stifled that enthusiasm, not knowing how he’d react this early into … whatever it was they were doing. “Will it be warm enough?” She asked instead, taking the practical approach.

Cullen smiled, the scar tugging up in a roguish grin. “I’ll think of something. Also, don’t think that I didn’t notice how this ended. I very willingly owe you a favor now.”

“Oh.” She replied dumbly. Damn his sudden confidence, she thought, distractedly twisting her linen tunic between her hands. “Well. Maybe I can get Sera to steal me some more fancy smalls. …Unless that’s not what you had in mind.”

Cullen’s eyes briefly narrowed into a dangerously pleased expression before they softened in amusement. “You’re assuming that Sera hasn’t found the crate already and run all the underwear up the flag poles.”

“Ah… Yes. Yes I was assuming that.”

Cullen’s smile broadened and he gazed at her affectionately for a moment, running his thumb down the curve of her jaw. “I hate to do this, but I should leave you to your meeting.” He paused, all of a sudden looking vulnerable. “I’ll see you tonight?”

Eve beamed. “Oh, count on it, Commander.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might do an epilogue with Cullen's point of view of the events that transpire that night. *taps chin* Seems a bit unfinished otherwise. With that in mind, I've changed the chapter count.


	6. Do you want your silky underthings back, or did you leave those like a token?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen makes up for lost time, while Sera makes her own fun.
> 
> NSFW

Evening had settled over Skyhold, chasing away the afternoon’s stifling heat with a pleasantly cool mountain breeze. Cullen, who had dutifully returned to his desk to plow through new army requisition requests, didn’t notice the change in temperature. In truth, he didn’t notice much of anything at the moment. Cullen was a distracted mess.

After he had left the Inquisitor’s quarters that afternoon, he had grabbed a hasty dinner from the kitchen, visited the bathhouse, and returned to his office, ostensibly to get more work done. It hadn’t gone as planned. He had spent the following hours at his desk, quill in hand, unable to think at all. _Twice_ he had attempted to complete a requisition form, and _twice_ he had spelled his own damned name wrong.

“Well done, Rutherfod.” He had thought dryly when it happened for the second time, prompting him to toss his quill aside.

Sitting back in his chair with a sigh, he dwelled on the fact that, only a few hours ago, Evelyn Trevelyan had been tucked firmly in his arms in a decidedly non-platonic embrace. Nearly naked, no less. Cullen scrubbed his hand across his cheek, flushing deeply at the thought.

_Maker_ …

He couldn’t help but recall the summery smell of her hair, the taste of her slightly salty skin, the feel her of her mouth…

Cullen blinked. Her _mouth_.

In a moment of sudden clarity, he realized that he hadn’t even kissed her. She had knelt before him, had eagerly taken him in her mouth, and when they were finished – when he had finished - they had chatted briefly and then he had politely _left_.

At the realization, he clenched his eyes shut in embarrassment and slumped down slightly in his chair. Fade take him, he was an idiot. He had been mooning after the Inquisitor for months now, and when something had finally, inevitably happened between them, he had fumbled the situation – badly. Cullen exhaled through his nose in irritation, inwardly berating himself for his thoughtlessness.

 She hadn’t seemed upset, though…

Suddenly, he heard a firm knock on the door that led from the keep. His heart squeezed tight at the sound. _This time,_ he thought to himself, _try not to be an unmitigated ass._

“Come in!” He called, standing up from his chair.

The door creaked open and Evelyn stepped inside, making Cullen’s stomach squirm happily. She had changed since the last time she saw her. _Of course she had._ She was now modestly dressed in snug leather pants, knee-high brown suede boots, and a plain white tunic. Her long, blonde hair hung loosely over one shoulder and she wore a simple opal pendant around her neck.

Cullen greeted her with a genuine smile and moved around to the front of his desk. “How did the meeting with Leliana go?” _Good. That was safe._

“Just fine.” She closed the door behind her and turned to face him. “Fairbanks has some information about one of the noble families in Val Chevin – the ones who are holding out their support for the Inquisition. He’s willing to share some information about them in exchange for some more equipment. Carts and tools and the like. We’re going to figure out specifics at tomorrow’s meeting.” As she talked, she distractedly flicked the pendant on the chain around her neck, watching the stone spin. “I think it’ll be a good opportunity for both parties.”

Cullen nodded and leaned back against the desk, bracing himself on his palms as he listened. “Seems fair. I don’t know why Leliana couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell you, though.”

Eve glanced up from the spinning stone pendant, her eyes alight with friendly amusement. “Impatient, Commander?”

He flushed. “No, I just think… that…she…” He trailed off, knowing she had hit the nail on the head. “It just seems unnecessary to meet tonight.” He finished lamely.

Eve smiled warmly and Cullen felt himself distractedly staring at her lips, thinking back to the afternoon when he had watched her lovely pink lips doing wicked things. To his embarrassment, his body responded immediately and he felt himself begin to stiffen at the thought. _Oh, perfect._

Eve must have seen the change in his expression because she dropped her pendant and crossed the room to stand before him. Before he could say anything else, she had placed one palm against his chest and looked up at him with reassurance in her bright green eyes. Cullen’s heart stuttered and he unthinkingly reached out for her, pulling her snugly against his chest.

“I’m happy you’re here.” He mumbled as she settled against him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in the clean scent of her slightly damp hair.

“I am too.” She remarked contently, her fingers playing with the linen of his shirt. “I’m glad you’ve forgone the armor tonight.”

As if to clarify, she drummed her fingers against his chest. Cullen made a low noise, agreeing wholeheartedly with her. After all, he could finally feel the curves of her body - something he had definitely missed out on earlier due to his bulky breastplate.

“Cullen?”

At the sound of his name, he pulled back and looked down to her. “Hmm?”

Eve, who had apparently been waiting for an opportunity, leaned up without warning and kissed him softly on the lips, her touch genuinely affectionate but not forceful. Rather, she was slow and polite, as if she was silently asking permission to proceed. He responded eagerly, his hands immediately leaving her waist so he could tangle them in her long hair. She parted her lips then, swiping her tongue against his own with an almost inaudible sigh.

He made a low noise of contentment at the sensation of her tongue gliding against his, their kiss gradually becoming less restrained as they became familiar with one another. When Cullen scraped his teeth against her lower lip in a teasing gesture, she upped the ante by sliding her right thigh up his leg. It was an unspoken game they were playing, each nudging the other a little further with increasingly daring touches. When her leg slid higher up against his own, he responded instantly, gripping her thigh firmly to pull her body tight against his own. That single motion abruptly changed the tone of the kiss from softly affectionate to desperately heated. With the pace of the kiss quickly increasing, he hurriedly untangled his other hand from her hair and pulled her completely up against him, relishing the pressure of her sex, now strategically placed against his erection. She gasped then, and Cullen fuzzily realized the Inquisitor was practically in his lap now. He was suddenly very grateful for the sturdy desk behind him that now bore most of their weight.

The thought sobered him, and he realized that he wasn’t entirely certain if the old desk would hold them both. As enjoyable as it might be to fuck her mercilessly on it, _(Maker, would they actually go that far?)_ there were better places. More comfortable places. Places that involved less ink and fewer pointy writing tools. He reluctantly pulled back from the dizzying kiss, even as every part of his body begged him to continue. 

“Did you want to talk upstairs?” He murmured lightly against her lips, still incredibly mindful of his achingly hard erection pressed against her. He knew the real meaning behind his words, and knew that Eve did too. Maker, he had meant to talk with her, to figure out what they both wanted from this. That was the respectable, logical approach to this situation, but now that she was here, warm and willing in his arms, that was bloody well not the approach he wanted to take.

Eve nodded in response, her own expression shaky and unfocused. Seeing her nod, he set her down on the stone floor and gently squeezed her hand.

“You head up the ladder and I’ll follow.”

Eve nodded again, still a little dazed, and moved to climb the ladder with Cullen only a step behind. With a quick look back at him, the blonde mage ascended the ladder to his loft, the wooden rungs squeaking under each light step. Cullen, who stood at the bottom of the ladder, waited appreciatively for his turn, all the while thinking that leather pants were a gift from the Maker.

When Eve’s feet disappeared over the edge, he followed her up the ladder, wondering, as he did every night, if the dilapidated wood would continue to hold his weight. When he safely reached the top, he pulled himself up and moved to the side of the bed to light the pale wax candles that sat on the barrel beside his bed.

Maker, he wished he had more than barrels as furniture.

He must have spoken that thought aloud because Eve chuckled. “Somehow, it seems to suit you. It’s like you’re too pre-occupied with real Inquisition problems to worry about how your bedroom looks. Although I’m happy to get Josie to order you something, if you like.”

Cullen shook his head faintly. “I’ll look into it after we win. For now, the bed works, and that’s all I really need.” He paused for a moment, then squinted knowingly at her. “You’re going to turn that into some sort of obscene joke, aren’t you?”

She barked a happy laugh at his admonishment. “You try spending most of your waking hours with Sera, Dorian, and Bull and see how long your mind stays chaste. I swear, if I hear the word ‘ladybits’ one more time…” She trailed off, her expression distantly thoughtful. “Well. …It will be a lot of times.”

Cullen grinned. “I swear I won’t use that term around you.” His eyebrows narrowed in an almost baffled expression. “Or… ah…ever.”

She mirrored his grin and moved in closely, now only a handspan away. “And for that, you have my eternal thanks.” Cullen watched as her eyes suddenly grew dark, her expression mischievous.

“On a somewhat related topic, I want to show you something.” To his shock, she suddenly began pulling her tunic off, baring herself to him with surprisingly ease.

He blinked. “That… was not what I expected.” He remarked, swallowing thickly. His eyes guiltily flicked down to her suddenly bare chest and he noted that, while she was smaller than some of the women he had been with, she was absolutely flawless. Her pert breasts made for very pleasant looking handfuls. Very pleasant _feeling_ handfuls too, he recalled. 

Eve grinned and winked as she began pushing her pants down, wiggling her hips a little to work them off. Cullen continued watching, fascinated at both her body and the incredible amount of confidence she was exhibiting. Her boldness shouldn’t have surprised him; he was used to her outrageously clumsy flirting by now. It never failed to take him off guard though, and that held true when she stepped out of her pants and stood in front of him wearing nothing but a purple lace thong. _The_ purple lace thong, he remembered - the one he had held up between his fingers only this morning. It was little more than a scrap of rich purple lace and a thin purple silk strap, but, knowing Orlais, it probably cost a fortune.

Maker’s _fucking_ breath.

Comfortable or not, he understood why women wore them now. At this very moment, even the most powerful desire demon would take one look at the young Inquisitor and sullenly shuffle off, knowing it was outmatched.

Cullen gritted his teeth and rubbed his forehead, his expression pained as he watched the slim mage kick her pants to the side.

“Fade take you, woman. You _are_ trying to kill me.”

She laughed, a sound of pure, uncomplicated joy and Cullen couldn’t help but feel his own happiness peak as she slid, warm and nearly naked, into the circle of his arms.

“I’ve… thought about you all day.” She confessed shyly as soon as his arms settled around her waist. “I hope that today … I hope you’re alright with it.”

Cullen bent his head and kissed her deeply in response, feeling more aroused then he had been since… well. This afternoon.

To his joy, Eve leaned up into his kiss without hesitation, her mouth warm and enthusiastic against his own. As he opened his mouth to suck her lower lip, Eve suddenly grabbed great handfuls of his tunic, twisting the fabric tightly in her grip. She guided him backwards then, slowly maneuvering him to the bed, her lips still locked with his in a passionate kiss. When the backs of his calves hit the side of the mattress, she broke off the kiss and pushed him down, forcing him sit. Cullen willingly dropped down onto the mattress and gazed up, transfixed, as Eve gracefully straddled his thighs and sat down in his lap, pressing herself tightly to him in one fluid move. There was no false innocence in the action; he was achingly hard and it was obvious she knew it as she slid herself up against his erection. He exhaled a broken breath at the feeling.

“Tell me again why I was fighting against this?” He asked, grazing his hand along her hip with wonder lacing his voice.

Eve set her arms around his shoulders, resting one wrist on the other behind his head. “Because you’re a dutiful, stubborn ass?”

Cullen’s eyebrows shot up in good-humored surprise, but Eve continued speaking, her words soft and serious. “Because you had legitimate fears about our ability to do our jobs well and you were concerned about potential repercussions for the Inquisition? Because you always think before you act?” She touched his face lovingly. “Because you are the best of men.”

His heart squeezed in affection and he had to bite back a protest that, no, was not the best – not anywhere near it, unless you counted damaged lyrium addicts as good men. Instead, he buried his hand in her hair again and pulled her close for another kiss, trying to show her just how much her words had soothed his soul. Eager for her touch, he grazed his lips lightly against hers at first, his kiss quickly intensifying until she broke away a moment later, panting shallowly in his ear.

_Oh, Maker_. The knowledge that he could arouse her so deeply enthralled him more than anything ever had. Cullen leaned back on the bed, propping himself up on his palms as he drank in the sight of the Inquisitor, still firmly seated in his lap.

“I believe I owe you a favor.” He rumbled deeply as he gazed at her. “For this afternoon.”

In one swift motion, he slid his arms under her thighs and flipped her over, causing her to yelp and laugh in surprise as she landed on her back on his heavy, red covers. Before she could protest, he had nudged her legs apart and braced himself over her on the bed, his hands on either side of her shoulders. He grinned fiercely at her from above, and it occurred to him that she might have been the most beautiful thing he’d seen in years.

Years? Maybe ever.

Eve now back lay on his covers, her long blonde hair spread out behind her and her lips slightly parted as she watched to see what he’d do. Her bare chest rose and fell with her shallow breaths, drawing his attention to her lovely breasts, her nipples hard from the cool night air of his room. He loomed over her, still fully clothed, studying her with obvious affection.

“You are perfect. And exasperating. Mostly perfect, though.”

Eve huffed a pleased laugh, but he went on.

“Also, you have teased me relentlessly for _months_ now.” He reached over and traced his thumb along her bottom lip, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Turnabout is fair play.”

With a ferocious grin, he grabbed ahold of her thighs again and tugged her forward, dragging her along the covers so that she was positioned on the side of the bed, her legs spread wide. She gasped at his sudden display of dominance, her eyes wide with lust.

Aroused beyond belief at the scene before him, he sank to his knees at the side of his bed. Leisurely, he ran a thumb up the inside of her thigh, drawing his fingers tantalizingly close to the lace of her lingerie. When he trailed his fingers back down her thigh, she shifted wantonly under his touch, clearly aching for something more substantial. It fleetingly occurred to Cullen that if one of this scouts burst in to tell him the keep was on fire, he’d promptly tell them to fuck off, Skyhold be damned.

Spurred on by his wicked thoughts, Cullen leaned in to kiss the inside of her right thigh, trying not to scrape her soft skin with his stubble. He noticed then, in the flickering candlelight, that her right leg had been deeply marred by four parallel scars running across her upper thigh - a souvenir from her first fight with the Ferelden Frostback, he guessed. He felt a welling sense of pride as his hand slid down her thigh again; it reminded him that she taken on a dragon and come home with its head. For all her cheery flirtatiousness, she had an underlying strength and ferocity that he found gratifying in a way that his warrior nature appreciated greatly. He didn’t see that ferocity often in Skyhold, but he read the reports and heard the stories from his scouts. Flirty or not, she was a dangerously competent woman.

 But the fight with the dragon was then and this… this was now.

Forgetting about scars and dragons, he shot her another wicked smile and bent down to lay warm, lingering kisses in the dip between her thigh and the ornate lace thong. She exhaled shakily as his tongue laved slow, wet circles against her soft skin, his warm breath ghosting along the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh. When she gasped, he ran the tip of tongue over the thin fabric of her lingerie, tracing her folds through the fabric. The move elicited a low, shuddering breath from her and he felt his cock jerk at the sound. Encouraged, he gently slid his index finger under the fabric and pulled it aside, causing Eve’s breath to catch in her throat as he completely exposed her.

“Cullen?!” She panted, and he recognized it as a request for something - anything. 

Dipping his head back down, he parted her folds with his thumbs and eagerly drew the flat of his tongue along her, tasting her. When he reached her clit he swirled his tongue around it so gently, causing her to gasp again, high and needy. She pressed up against him and he shifted on his knees, adjusting his position so he could slide a bare finger, then two, into her slickness. She gasped again and arched her back against the mattress, moaning and simultaneously trying to grind herself down against his fingers. With his heart hammering in his chest, Cullen worked her harder, licking and sucking her rhythmically, straining to hear her verbal cues as he took her relentlessly with his mouth. Her quiet, breathy moans escalated quickly until she cried out, her voice breaking as she shouted half his name, the rest of it dissolving into another wordless cry. Cullen didn’t relent until she sighed deeply and her leg slipped down off the side of the bed, trembling slightly.

Feeling relieved that his skills hadn’t completely deserted him, he leaned back on his boot heels and subtly wiped his mouth on his wrist, his right hand still resting on her inner thigh. To his satisfaction, Eve now lay bonelessly on his bed, her eyes closed in a daze.

“Alright, Eve?” He asked, throwing her words from this afternoon back at her. In response, she sighed quietly, her eyes still closed.

 “You have a bloody brilliant tongue, Rutherford…” She muttered, sounding absolutely sated.

Cullen chuckled and climbed up the bed, settling himself along the length of her body. When she didn’t open her eyes or turn to face him, he placed his fingers on her jaw and tilted her head towards him so he could lean in to kiss her gently. Despite the lust that still ran hotly through his veins, he managed to press a slow and languid kiss to her lips. When he pulled back a moment later, she was gazing at him with a reverent expression.

 “O-oh.”

Cullen grinned crookedly. “Oh?”

Eve frowned at his teasing, quickly becoming more cognizant. “Yes. ‘Oh.’ And I don’t recall you being particularly loquacious this afternoon either.”

Cullen snorted, amused. “That is absolutely true.”

“Also.” She pointedly looked down at his body. “As beautifully regal as you look, I think you might be a tad overdressed.” She smiled tenderly at him, reaching over to flick a loose curl off his forehead.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He shuffled back off the bed and tugged his red tunic off, tossing it somewhere behind him. Before it had hit the ground, he was kicking off his boots and pushing down his own pants, conscious of Eve’s appreciative gaze on him. When all his clothing lay discarded on a heap on the floor, he moved to stand between her thighs, completely naked and unbearably turned on. Eve watched him closely, her eyes heavy-lidded and her expression curious.

“On your hands and knees.” He ordered abruptly, and her face lit up at the gruffness of his words. Cullen mentally filed her reaction away and then watched with satisfaction as she rolled over on to her stomach and pushed herself onto all fours, facing away from him.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

He exhaled a shaky breath as he admired the Blessed Herald of Andraste, savior of Thedas, kneeling in front of him, her ass towards him and her green eyes wide with desire as she looked back at him.

“This is what you want?” She asked softly, and Cullen was dimly aware that this might be a very loaded question.

“ _Yes._ ” He replied in a quick breath, sliding up the mattress to kneel behind her. His callused hands skimmed over her skin until they settled firmly on her hips. “Void, _yes_.”

He saw Eve’s eyes slide shut in pleasure and it was clear his words, or perhaps his tone, had stoked a fire in her. He watched, fascinated, as she tilted her hips towards him, beckoning him to do what he wished. Cullen almost groaned - he was done waiting. Done trying to pretend that he wasn’t interested in her, done thinking that he had to appreciate her from a distance.

 Pushing those thoughts away, he reached down with his thumb and tugged the strap of her thong to the side, exposing her to him again. With his cock in his hand, he smoothly guided himself between her thighs, the tip of him sliding slickly to her entrance. A gentle push and he was inside her, causing him to pant lowly while Eve gasped, both of them completely focused on the sensation.

“Oh, _Maker_.” Cullen breathed. Nothing else mattered – not Corypheus, not the Red Templars- nothing but the soft, tight warmth of her, the smell of her skin, and the feel of her hips under his palms. 

“Oo-hh… Cullen.” She whimpered after a moment, pushing her hips back in an effort to get him to move. He nodded, not caring that she had already looked away and couldn’t see the gesture. Slowly, he began to thrust into her, doing his best to restrain himself with a measured pace. When she pushed back harder, he picked up the tempo of his thrusts, realizing that neither of them would last long in their state.

Eve, he noted with pleasure, was desperately turned on. She was panting beneath him, pushing back hard with her fists balled into his sheets. Cullen gritted his teeth and tried to slow down to prolong the sensation, but the moment his eyes fell on the place where they joined, he was suddenly and completely lost. It was too damned much.

“I can’t… Where should I…?” He panted through his still-gritted teeth as he thrust deeply.

“Inside.” Eve cut him off, her tone just as clipped and desperate. “It’s alright.”

Cullen nodded hurriedly, more to himself than to her, and he continued to thrust hard into her. In the end, it was Eve’s reedy cry of satisfaction that pushed him over the edge. With a few final thrusts, his mind faltered and he was unable to focus on anything but his own overwhelming orgasm. He came hard with a strangled yell, his body shuddering as he spilled himself inside her as she thrust back firmly against him. He thrust once more until he was completely rung out, barely able to think properly.

After a moment, he gently but reluctantly pulled out and collapsed beside her on the bed, burying his face in his pillow with a groan. When he felt her shift beside him on the mattress, he turned his head to see Eve lying beside him on her back, her forearm draped over her eyes and her skin flushed. She must have felt his gaze on her, because she turned her head to look at him with a small smile playing on her lips. Cullen smiled brilliantly at her, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in far too long. He appreciatively threw his arm around her waist and firmly pulled her up against his sweat-dampened chest, basking in the feeling of her. After a moment, he felt her mumble against his chest.

 “Do you think we could do that again? Some time? Maybe many times?”

Cullen smiled and nuzzled the top of her head. “Of course. Consider me thoroughly convinced.”

 

* * *

 

A little while later, when they had snuggled down under his covers to ward off the cool night air, Cullen reached over to tug playfully on the strap that lay across her hip.

“You never explained how you came by this new lingerie.” He stated before slinging his arm back over her hip.

“Ah… yes. That’s true.” Eve replied guardedly.

Catching on to her tone, Cullen arched an eyebrow. “I take it you’re not volunteering that information.” He pulled back so he could look at her. She winced, her expression guilty. 

“Sera… might have stolen it.” Seeing his surprised reaction, she quickly continued. “I’m not entirely sure, but I think it’s some sort of bizarrely misguided token of friendship. She saw me with the catalogue, and this afternoon I had mentioned Vivienne’s delivery, and then after dinner there was another box outside my door with a note about… you. And peaches.” She made a face and Cullen assumed there was some inside joke there. Eve sighed. “I know I could have just returned it, but I don’t know where the crate is now. I plan to make it up to Vivienne tenfold.”

When he just watched her placidly, she continued to ramble. “Also, when I mentioned the crate to Sera, I didn’t know she’d go _steal_ lingerie from it.” She frowned then, realizing how feeble her excuse sounded.

She looked up at him with a guilty look in her big, green eyes, as if she had more bad news.

“I should tell you… according to her note, Sera claims you owe her now.”

Cullen blanched. “What? Why me?”

“Because, ultimately, you’re the one that benefits? I think that was her logic. Honestly, I think she just wants to make you uncomfortable.”

He groaned in frustration. “She’ll probably ask me to… I don’t know. Fire some nugs from a trebuchet or something equally ridiculous.” He grimaced at the thought, recalling her last nug-related stunt in the barracks.

“Maybe. For what it’s worth, I didn’t know actually know she was going to involve you.”

Cullen grunted a begrudging acceptance and changed topics. “So Sera knows about Vivienne’s delivery of lingerie. That doesn’t sound like something that will end well.”

“No, it really doesn’t.” Even in the dim candlelight, Cullen could see Eve’s face grow concerned.

“Do you think Sera can be trusted not to take advantage of the fact that there’s a crate full of noble’s smallclothes in Skyhold?” He asked, distractedly running his thumb across the skin of her hip. 

Eve sighed, her eyebrows pushed together in a frown. “Void. No? No. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, assuming everything hasn’t gone pear-shaped by then.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, when the sun had risen and the dew on the grass had begun evaporate, Cullen made his way up the wide stone steps to the Great Hall, humming quietly to himself. He was tired, but happy. Deeply and genuinely happy. Eve had stayed the entire night, only leaving when the sun rose in an effort to avoid starting rumors. She had promised to return again this evening, albeit in plainer smallclothes. Cullen flushed, recalling how he had suggested to just leave them off altogether.

Cullen savored that thought as he walked into the Great Hall, then stopped, sensing something was wrong. At the end of the hall, he could plainly see that a small cluster of people had gathered around the Inquisitor’s throne, talking in fast, irritated voices. He could clearly make out Josephine, who looked as though she was trying to placate Vivienne. Her soft-spoken reassurances didn’t appear to be working; the enchanter’s face was an absolute storm cloud.

Cullen slowed to a stop beside the fireplace and glanced to Varric, eager to avoid wading into the shit-storm that was happening at the other end of the hall.

“Do you know what’s going on?” He asked.

Varric crossed his arms leaned back on the wall with a good-natured grin on his face.

“Take a look at the window, Curly.”

Cullen squinted to look at the tall stained glass window behind the Inquisitor’s throne.

It took a moment, but he quickly realized that the windowpanes had been …decorated. Affixed to each pane of glass was a single piece of lingerie, framing the Inquisitor’s throne in a rainbow of racy smallclothes. Translucent peach nightgowns, rich blue thongs, even a couple black leather corsets were strung from each frame. The morning sun only amplified the effect; sunshine streamed through some of the more translucent pieces, casting different colored puddles of light on the stone floor. It was bizarrely pretty.

All in all, the effect must have been worth a small fortune.

As Cullen mulled over the scene in front of him, Sera slipped into the doorway by Varric, just out of the line of sight of Vivienne and Josephine. It was clear that the elf was surreptitiously admiring the chaos she had wrought, not bothering to keep the glee from her face.

Meeting Cullen’s impassive gaze, her features became fiercer, as if she was daring him to say something. He held her gaze for a brief moment before glancing back to the window, staring at particularly flimsy pink-colored nightie.

“You might want to attach them to the outside of the window next time. That way, they’ll have a hell of a time getting them down.”

Sera paused to think about this for moment before her expression changed from guarded to supremely delighted and she let out a burst of raucous laughter. 

“That ‘a boy, Cully. You’re in my good books.”

Cullen ignored Varric’s startled expression and flashed Sera a rare grin before turning to walk to the War Room where Eve waited. _Might as well get on Sera's good side before she calls in her favor_ , he reasoned.

“By the way,” She called mischievously as he strode away, giving Cullen the urge to flinch. “I hope her Gracious Ladybits gave you a damn good show.” 

His face turned a deep red and he kept walking. She sure as hell did, but there was no way he was going to tell her that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over the past couple months I’ve read quite a few Dragon Age stories and I was originally too shy to even kudos anything, let alone comment. I wanted to make amends and contribute to the fandom, because I’ve had a really fun time reading other people’s stories. (Ex: Not Your Lady, Summer’s Ashes, Accidentally in Love, the Fire Dance, Divide and Conquer, Hero Worship, Side by Side, Queen of Procrastination’s and Comet Eclipse’s stuff, and so many others.) I love their stuff. And so many other peoples' works. It's the best.
> 
> Also, in the future, I'm going try writing a one-shot with Lavellan and a downright furious Commander. He’s generally rather even-tempered around the Inquisitor; I wondered what it’d be like if he was infuriated over something (with good reason), and a small, Elvish Inquisitor had to do damage control.


End file.
